


Dismissed

by Dead_walking



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Magnus deserves the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 16:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14192814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dead_walking/pseuds/Dead_walking
Summary: Sitting in the silence of the apothecary, now dim and deathly still, there’s nothing left to keep Magnus’ thoughts from getting pulled into the shadows that have long since claimed the room.He's been dismissed.





	Dismissed

It creeps up on Magnus just as he finishes prepping ingredients for a potion he can’t begin until tomorrow. A low tremor that crawls down his legs and arms, making his fingers nearly twitch with a pressing need to move away from the table and find the next task that needs accomplishing. And even though it’s well past two in the morning and he should have gone to bed hours ago, he feels his muscles constrict, preparing themselves to move until he realizes there’s nothing left to do. All his tools have been re-organized, every jar meticulously labeled, there’s a lull in emails, and his last voicemail was checked and responded to hours ago. As much as he craves for them, there are no more distractions to lose himself in.

Sitting in the silence of the apothecary, now dim and deathly still, there’s nothing left to keep Magnus’ thoughts from getting pulled into the shadows that have long since claimed the room. Thoughts that he tried to evade by sorting books and creating schedules, but they were persistent and unrelenting things, swarming and biting into his skin like parasites. And while he wants to swat them away by filling his day with endless tasks and appointments, Magnus is suddenly very, very tired. Too tired to stop reality from burrowing deep inside him.

He’s been dismissed.

It’s not exactly the loss of the title that make his breaths too heavy, yet somehow too shallow. He’s been without that before. It’s being pushed aside after decades of protecting both Downworlders and warlocks alike, offering himself until he was spent, ragged and exhausted as he stumbled back into his loft. And even when that wasn’t enough, he opened his doors as a haven, vowing to protect even those that questioned his decisions. There isn’t an inch of himself that he hasn’t offered and yet here he sits, stripped of everything because of one misjudgment.

Another deep, long breath, but every time he tries to fill his lungs they feel empty. Deflated and hollowed out, two voids that threaten to keep growing, reaching and expanding until they’re large enough to join the darkness that’s consuming the floorboards and walls. Darkness that wants to consume Magnus whole, like it once did all those years ago.

“Magnus?”

A whisper followed by a light spilling in from the hallway. Magnus watches the darkness retreat into the corners of the room, illuminating his skin as he crashes back into himself, gripping the side of the table for leverage.

He doesn’t know when Alec moves, but there’s suddenly a weight against his thigh, and hazel eyes that almost shine in the dim light. Familiar, loving eyes because of course Alexander reached for him and woke when his arm didn’t find his. Of course he came for him because Alec has been a steady force by his side, offering him pancakes and tea, challenging him to pool games and massages, and now he acts as a beacon, guiding Magnus back to himself, one solid breath at a time.

“Magnus,” Alec says again, sleep or maybe worry roughening the edges of his words. “What’s wrong? Hey, talk to me.”

And Magnus wants to, but he doesn’t know how to begin pulling at the words clogging his brain, swelling and twirling until his temples are throbbing. He doesn’t know how to make sense of the fact that he won’t be joining Alec, Luke, and Raphael for the next cabinet meeting or the fact that warlocks no longer think he’s reliable enough to trust. He doesn’t know how to redefine himself now that he’s not the High Warlock.

There’s too much to untangle and sort out, so he settles for something simple, something to help him get through tonight, “Can you just -hold me?”

“Whatever you need,” Alec says and Magnus closes his eyes as Alec pulls him in tight. Everything is still too much, a growing cacophony of words and emotions he can’t shut out, but at least they lessen in the safety and solidity of Alec’s touch. Moving himself closer, he begins to lose himself in the soft press of lips along his head, and the tightening grip that promises to help anchor him as he regains his footing on this unsteady ground.

**Author's Note:**

> Because I can never get enough of Magnus Bane.
> 
> Thoughts, opinions, kudos, feed my writing soul.
> 
> Come say hi on tumblr [@the-roci](http://the-roci.tumblr.com)


End file.
